


With No Compass To Guide

by killingmonsterswritingthings



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Europe, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Road Trip, Travel, only with planes and trains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:55:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingmonsterswritingthings/pseuds/killingmonsterswritingthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer has never been to Europe. And when he wants to run away but can't, Hotch thinks it's time to take matters into his own hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With No Compass To Guide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sammylostshoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sammylostshoe/gifts).



> It seems joining new fandoms with 9 seasons worth of material is the key to getting my writing mojo back. Go figure.
> 
> This was gonna be a Christmas present for [Sammy](http://sammylostshoe.tumblr.com) but then I got a bit busy with y’know, that stupid essay and Christmas and New Year’s. So here we have the very late present. I’m unsure about it and I bet it has like a zillion mistakes but I still kinda like it so… yeah.

“No, hold up, you've never left the states?“

Spencer frowned. That wasn't what he'd said. “Actually, I have left the US on cases. Mexico and Canada, if anyone except me remembers.“

“That doesn't count, kid. Both of those are basically part of the states,” Morgan said, shaking his head.

They were flying back home from a case in Montana that had ended particularly well. Two boys saved and the UnSub safely in custody. Particularly well, if you didn't count the three victims the case had claimed before they had figured out that there was a child as an involuntary accomplice involved.

Trigger for their current conversation had been when JJ had said how one of the boys had told her that he wanted to go to college in the UK and Morgan had felt obligated to do a headcount of team members that had been to Europe before. Which was apparently everybody except Spencer.

“You have to differentiate,” Hotch cut in from his seat and Spencer couldn't help but give him a thankful look, which didn't last very long. Hotch's next words betrayed him. “Neither Mexico nor Canada are part of the USA but that still means that he's never left North American soil.”

JJ put a cup of coffee in front of Spencer and sat down next to him. “Come on, don't tease him.”

“Could you please stop talking about me like I'm not present?” He wasn't annoyed per se, being used to this kind of conversation. Over the years he had learned that the team he had chosen to put his loyalties into mainly communicated their affection through gentle teasing. Especially Morgan and Rossi. Hotch, too, on the good days. His favorite were the _best_ days though. The ones were Hotch was loose and happy and between joking around was so sincere that it almost hurt. Anyway, Spencer wasn't annoyed, he was just tired. “It's actually not that uncommon. Only around nine point six fivepercent of US citizens leave the country per year.”

“That's not the point though, is it? You've never been to Europe. _Penelope_ has been to Europe.”

“I see nothing wrong with that,” Spencer interrupted Morgan, taking a sip from his coffee, grazing Hotch with a look when he chuckled, obviously prompted by Morgan's look of frustration.

Emily threw the book she had been reading across the aisle, closely missing Morgan's head when his hand shot up in reflex and caught it. “Leave the boy alone and enjoy some literature.”

“Yes, Mom,” Morgan replied with a smirk, opening the book dutifully. Everybody laughed, startling Rossi from his pre-landing nap.

 

  
  


The conversation kind of retreated to the back of his memory after that, of course never forgotten, only overshadowed by gruesome details of cases and stories that Henry told him and that definitely needed savoring in between all the darkness. And then confusion and chaos hit and it wasn't until months later, after Maeve's death, that the ironic idea of a trip to Europe returned. But Spencer wasn't going to run away, no matter how badly he wanted to.

The only mistake was that his worn out mind had missed a very important variable in that calculation. His team. His family. Almost a fatal flaw after he had promised them – and himself – that he was going to rely on them for comfort this time. That it was okay.

So Hotch intercepting him on the way to the elevators came as a surprise to him at first. Even with his brain going a mile a second he was still too tired to be suspicious. “I'm okay,” he said, anticipating the question. It wasn't even a lie. Not really. Okay, maybe it was but he just wanted to go home and hope that there were less nightmares waiting this time.

“No, you're not. Don't lie to me.” There was no real accusation in his words. Spencer had long been able to pick up on the nuances in Hotch's tone and right now he wasn't being a scolding boss, he was trying to be a friend. He didn't know which one was worse.

“I just really want to go home and sleep,” he confessed. Maybe if he kept trying he would stop seeing her in his dreams. Although he wasn't sure if that was what he wanted.

“I know,” Hotch replied, pressing the button for the elevator. “Come on, I'll give you a lift.”

Spencer bit back a sigh. He could imagine better pastimes than either having to sit in uncomfortable silence or talk about things he definitely wasn't ready to talk about yet. But at this time of the day it would get him home faster and Hotch was a sensible person. He probably wouldn't press it if Spencer didn't want to talk. “Alright,” he said, stepping into the elevator behind his boss when the doors opened.

Maybe he should get a cat. Or a hamster.

He blinked against the random thought and pressed the button for the parking garage.

  
  


The drive was less awkward than he thought, mainly because for the first twenty minutes Hotch put on the radio and when they got closer to Spencer's apartment he called Jessica to tell her that he would be late to pick up Jack. Which Spencer found slightly weird since his home was only a slight detour and Hotch had finished work earlier than usual but he decided not to ask.

His confusion deepened when Hotch pulled into a parking spot in front of Spencer's apartment building instead of just idling at the curb. “You can just drop me off,” he said, because Hotch really didn't need to come in out of some sense of boss obligation or responsibility. “It's fine, really.”

“No, I'll come in. I have something to talk to you about,” Hotch said, switching the engine off, belatedly adding an “If you don't mind, of course.”

And well, that rang some alarm bells with Spencer because if Hotch had just wanted to talk about anything, even Maeve, then he could have done it back at the BAU or just in the car. But driving Spencer all the way home and then coming in to discuss something with him? That was suspicious because it had to be of utmost importance. End of the world important.

But again, he neither questioned it nor objected. He simply got out of the car and waited for Hotch to lock it behind them before walking up to the house, digging for his keys in his messenger bag.

He climbed the stairs quickly, flicking the corridor lights on on his way, and then unlocked the door to his apartment. He toed his shoes off and watched as Hotch did the same. So, this might take a while. Even longer than he thought, probably.

“Do you want a coffee? Tea? No beer or wine, I'm sorry.” While he did drink occasionally he had stopped keeping alcoholic beverages in his own house after he got clean off Dilaudid, fearing that another addiction might just be waiting around the corner.

“Tea would be nice, thank you,” Hotch said with a slight smile and Spencer was almost inclined to smile back. Almost.

They never really drank tea at the office or on cases, the caffeine they consumed instead carrying them through a lot of their work, but at night – especially lately – Spencer found a cup of tea to be soothing. So, instead of smiling back, he just nodded and entered the kitchen, feeling oddly relieved that Hotch didn't follow him. While the rest of the apartment had been back to its normal state for the most part since the others had helped him clean up, the kitchen was still – or rather again – a mess. He hadn't cleaned his dishes in at least four days and there was leftovers sitting on the counter. Suddenly he felt the need to clean up, but it would have to wait until after Hotch had left. Maybe he should _not_ get a cat. The poor animal would only end up neglected, or die because of food poisoning.

He shook his head and put on the kettle, rummaging in his cupboards for the tea he had somewhere. When he had found it he stuck his head out of the kitchen, so he wouldn't have to yell for Hotch. “Earl Grey or Peach Green Tea?”

Hotch looked up from where he was transferring a pile of books from the sofa to the coffee table and raised an eyebrow, as if he was almost expecting Spencer to know the answer. “Earl Grey,” he said and Spencer nodded, disappearing back into the kitchen.

He fixed himself some Green Tea because he could, pouring some Earl Grey for Hotch. He'd been thinking about learning the right way to brew tea with leaves but he hadn't come around to it yet, so tea bags would have to suffice.

When he carried the two steaming mugs into the living room and found Hotch sitting on his couch, one leg folded underneath him, he almost stopped short for a second, overwhelmed by how weirdly... domestic this was. Hotch hadn't been here for the cleaning action, which Spencer didn't blame him for, but seeing him sitting here now almost relaxed, despite the presumably very pressing matter to discuss, hit him hard. He didn't even know why and decided not to chase after the feeling, placing one of the mugs on the small space of the coffee table in front of Hotch that wasn't covered in books and then sitting down himself, clutching his own mug in his hands like a lifeline.

Of course he was tempted to just prompt Hotch to start talking, to get this, whatever it was, over with. But with the tea he had now set himself up for at least fifteen minutes of company anyway.

There was silence between them for a moment and Spencer used this stretch of time to study the way they sat. They were angled towards each other, despite the small but distinctive gap between them, Hotch a lot more open and relaxed and currently reaching for his tea. Spencer himself was a bit more reserved and cautious, both feet still on the ground and his mug shielding his body. But he was still facing Hotch and – analyzing himself – he knew that the anxiety only came from the explanation Hotch still needed to give. He was sure that within a few minutes he would find the tension seep out of him and end up feeling completely safe. Which wasn't something he experienced too often. He didn't have the luxury to feel safe. But Hotch... supplied that luxury in a way and Spencer felt glad and guilty at the same time for benefiting of it.

After taking a few sips from his tea, Hotch finally took a breath and Spencer knew that they were finally going to talk about whatever his boss had come here to discuss.

“I think you need a vacation,” Hotch said.

Spencer blinked. “But... I just got back. I'm ready to work, Hotch. I can't just sit at home in the dark anymore and not do anything.” He had not expected this. Sure, an attempted heart to heart, questions about his well-being. But he had thought that he had made the impression of recovering. Or, well, at least grieving more healthily. If that was at all possible.

“I know that. I can see you're doing your best and I'm not saying that it's not enough. It's just that I think you need a change of scenery. You need to get out of this city for a while and with that I don't mean going on cases where you're confronted with death every day. You need to see something beautiful. Experience. You need to travel, Spencer.”

In a moment of suspicion Spencer narrowed his eyes. “Did Morgan set you up to this?” he asked.

He didn't earn the reaction he had anticipated. Hotch looked so earnest that he usually would deny Spencer's assumption gently – but still in his serious manner. Instead Spencer could watch as the crinkles around Hotch's eyes deepened and the corners of his mouth curled into a smile.

“No, he did not,” Hotch chuckled. “Although he probably would have, if you had kept showing up to work without sleeping like you have been doing.”

“It's just not that easy,” Spencer said, shrugging. It wasn't. He saw her face every time he closed his eyes and while he craved being near her it was also the most painful thing he could imagine.

Hotch's face softened. “I know,” he said. “But maybe a bit of freedom and different places will give you the time you need. Maybe you can find some peace.”

“I don't think I ever will.” He knew he was being negative but he didn't know how to ever find peace. Not anymore. He thought that maybe, despite all the horrible they saw and experience every day and all the things he feared, it was still possible. But now he just didn't know how.

“I said maybe,” Hotch repeated. “Just give it a try? I know you never get out of here. Whenever you have a day off you just spend it in the city. You haven't been to see your mother in months.”

That was a low blow. Spencer scooted back on the couch, gripping his mug tighter. Every illusion of relaxation in the near future gone from his mind. He was tempted to go the childish way. Ask why Hotch even cared. But he _knew_ why he cared, so why ask.

He sighed. “I just... don't know where to go.” He had never had the time to go abroad, really. And if he had ever contemplated it, he had quickly become overwhelmed by the possibilities.

“That's why I took the liberty to get these,” Hotch said, taking two plane tickets out of his jacket pocket. Spencer stared at him incredulously but before he could get another word in, Hotch continued talking. “I know it's presumptuous to just spring this on you but you would have never done it yourself. I know you, Spencer.”

And, honestly, Spencer couldn't argue with that. He took a deep breath, put his mug on the coffee table and leaned forward towards Hotch, cautiously reaching for the plane tickets. Hotch extended them towards him.

“Both of these are from DC to London,” Spencer said before even taking them, his eyes flicking up at Hotch for confirmation he didn't really need. He slowly took the tickets out of Hotch's hand.

“Yeah, I got one for myself, too.”

And that may have been the most confusing thing Spencer had heard all evening. “Hotch,” he started, cutting himself off and starting over with a name that bore more weight here. “Aaron. You can't.”

“I can,” Hotch said, taking another sip from his tea. “And I will.”

Spencer huffed. “But... You- The team...” He really had no idea what to say.

Hotch chuckled. “It'll be fine, Spencer. It's only for a few weeks. I cleared this with the entire team and they're fine with it. You really need it... And so do I, if I'm being honest.”

“But... what about Jack?” Spencer asked, grimacing unhappily.

“Do you want to lecture me about my son?” Hotch retorted with a raised eyebrow.

“No!”, he said hastily, raising his hands – still clutching the plane tickets. “I just... uh... what does he think about your plan? And is Jessica fine with taking him for so long?” Really, he just didn't want Jack to hate his Dad or feel abandoned. He knew what that was like.

“I thought about this for a long time,” Hotch said and Spencer latched onto that for a second. How long exactly had Hotch been planning this? How long had he been watching Spencer's unhappiness with this plan developing in his mind? “Of course I talked to Jack about it. He's a bit disappointed because he wants to come, too, but I told him that you're very sad and it needs to be just us two. He understands, too. “

“He's smart,” Spencer mumbled, trying not to think about how much exactly Hotch had told Jack.

“He is,” Hotch nodded. “And as for Jessica, she made me promise to give you some babysitter duties when we get back but I don't think she was being serious.”

“You've really thought about this,” Spencer said, feeling defeated.

“Of course. But it's your choice. I don't want to take that away from you. I just wanted to give you a little push in the right direction and give you a little guidance.”

And Spencer smiled sadly because he hadn't heard the word guidance directed towards him in a long time. Sure, he had looked to people for guidance and there had been short instances of help and support, but active, conscious, _real_ guidance? Not since Gideon.

“Alright,” he said, giving up every effort of arguing. Hotch was serious and maybe he was even right. Spencer couldn't be sure. He was less sad on the job than he was sitting at home but running away definitely _had_ seemed like an alluring option. And this, this wouldn't be running away. This would be exploring, experiencing, living. “We leave in three days?” At least the date on the tickets suggested that.

“Yes. Don't pack too many books.” Hotch was openly smiling again now.

Spencer had the irrational urge to stick out his tongue at his boss. Instead he let his gaze flick back to the destination on the plane tickets, hope bubbling up in his chest. “We're visiting Emily, aren't we?”

“Now you've ruined the surprise,” Hotch said and laughed. Then he got up, picked up both of their mugs and walked towards the kitchen. Spencer, remembering the chaos, rose hastily.

“Let me do that!”

“I know how to rinse out two mugs, Spencer. And your kitchen can't shock me,” Hotch said over his shoulder and Spencer decided to just give up that part of the argument, too. It didn't feel like losing.

**Author's Note:**

> Sammy gets to pick all locations except for London and a special mystery destination. Ha.  
> I'm currently estimating around 6 chapters but you never know...
> 
> Work title is half of a line I love very much from All Time Low's [Somewhere In Neverland](http://vimeo.com/61240721).


End file.
